


A Fine Case of Being Fair

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Series: Sleepy Hollow OTP Prompts [16]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Carnival, Carnival Games, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fairs, Gen, Ichabod Crane vs. the 21st Century, Winning a Prize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2599877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie thinks carnivals are for kids.</p><p>She can't decide... Is it fitting that Crane wants to experience one?</p><p>
  <b>Prompt: Imagine your OTP goes to a carnival. Person A wants to win a prize, Person B is unamused. But then, A wins the prize and B is secretly happy.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fine Case of Being Fair

**Author's Note:**

> I love fair!fics. And Crane being awesome at modern things. Prompt from OTP Prompts Tumblr.
> 
> I do not own _Sleepy Hollow _(or the Hobbit, for that matter). Thanks for reading!__

"Come _on_ , Crane."

Ichabod rocked back on the heels of his boots, looking over his shoulder at Abbie. "Strange. Aren't these carnivals supposed to bring joy to their goers?"

Abbie crossed her arms across her chest. "Yeah, if said fair-goers are, like, five."

Ichabod looked away from her and around the small carnival. "I don't know. I believe it's quaint." He looked back at her. "May we?"

Abbie blew out a breath. " _Fine_. Five minutes. There's literally nothing here that can interest you for much longer than that."

Ichabod smiled. "Very well." He paused for a moment before offering his arm out to the Lieutenant. "Shall we?"

"You're going to escort me through a carnival?" Abbie asked disbelievingly.

"I don't believe it's inappropriate," Ichabod replied. "So, with your permission, I shall."

Abbie laughed, slipping her arm into his. "Yeah, okay, whatever. The only thing here is that I feel like a freaking hobbit next to you."

Ichabod tilted his head down towards her. "What's a hobbit?"

Abbie laughed again, a sort of exhale of breath with humor in it. "I'll have to grab it from the library for you. Old book, classic. Children's book, actually, but lots of people read it, anyway."

"Oh. I shall look forward to the literary adventure." He looked around. "What is this stand selling?"

"Not selling anything," Abbie said, peering around him. "It's a game. You throw these softballs and try to knock the bottles down."

Ichabod brightened. "... Lieutenant?"

"Let me guess. You want my money," Abbie teased.

"I'm afraid that the... what do you call it? Check? That your police department issued me for my consulting on the latest case has run out over provisions." Ichabod looked between Abbie and the game booth. "I don't wish to inconvenience you-"

"I already pay all of your bills, Crane, a carnival game isn't going to break the bank. Well, not on a good day," Abbie muttered, removing herself to rifle through her pockets. She pulled out some of the precious currency a moment later and handed it over. "Knock yourself out. These games are rigged, though. Jenny and I used to come here when we were kids, never won anything."

Ichabod paused. The money felt heavy in his fingers. The lure of items in this century was compelling. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's damn near impossible to win. But go ahead." Abbie gestured to the booth. "It's fine."

Ichabod licked his lips, looking between the Lieutenant, the money in his hand, and the game booth. "... Alright," he said slowly. Now he was concerned, and more than determined to win; he couldn't waste Miss Mill's money.

He was awarded three softballs for his five dollars. He absently weighed the softball in his hand eyed the three stacked bottles. How difficult could it be?

Needless to say, the first ball went wide right, the second ball only knocked one bottle over, and the third made him nervous even before he picked it up. Perhaps, if he threw overhand with a slight declination, with more force than the previous two...

The ball crashed into the two leftover bottles and sent them crashing from the table.

"Yes!" Ichabod hissed under his breath. He straightened up. "You see, Lieutenant-" He turned.

Abbie was gaping at him. "Are you _kidding_ me? Seventeenth century and you win this stupid game?"

"It would appear so." He hoped that he didn't look smug. He was trying so hard not to look too smug, but he couldn't help smiling at the Lieutenant's incredulity.

"And we've got a winner, folks! Any prize from the booth, sir! What can I get you?"

Ichabod blinked. "I win a prize?"

"Yep." Abbie pointed to the large, stuffed creatures hanging from the top of the booth. "Bragging prizes, Crane. These are the big stuffed animals here."

"Oh, I see." Ichabod folded his hands behind his back. He hadn't known there was a prize, nor did he particularly find the stuffed creatures appealing. However, the Lieutenant apparently did. "What would you prefer, Lieutenant?"

"What?"

He glanced down at her. "You're more attached to baubles of this age than I. Allow me to give my prize to you."

Abbie frowned slightly. "No, Crane, it's really not necessary-"

"I want to," Ichabod interrupted.

"... Alright. Thanks." Abbie looked back at the plush. "Hm. How about... _that_ one?" She had to stretch to point; Ichabod thought it was endearing, but he wisely did not comment.

"The white tiger?" the game booth attendant asked. "What a wonderful choice! Let me just get that down for you."

"The white tiger," Ichabod echoed. "It appears to be a most beautiful creature."

"Majestic and strong," Abbie replied, taking the large stuffed animal as it was handed over. "Thanks."

"Outward display of inner strength?" Ichabod tried.

"What?" Abbie shifted the large tiger to peer up at him.

"Nothing." He cast his gaze around the carnival. "I do believe that I like this ‘carnival’." He looked back at Abbie. "And that tiger is almost as large as you, Lieutenant."

"Oh, shut up," Abbie retorted, but she was smiling. "That's why they're bragging prizes."

"Would you like me to assist?"

"Nope!" Abbie replied cheerfully, hoisting the tiger more firmly into her arms.

　

 

 _"Seriously?"_ Jenny crossed her arms.

Abbie would have held up her hands had she not been carrying a stuffed tiger. "It's Crane. He won it for me."

Ichabod smiled wryly. Jenny trained her gaze on him. Ichabod tried not to squirm; her gaze was frighteningly intense.

"You're taking me to that carnival tomorrow, Crane," Jenny said bluntly.

Ichabod let out a relieved breath. "Very well, Miss Jenny. If you insist."

 

**Author's Note:**

> PS.
> 
> If you have an idea for a prompt, let me know. I've more or less run out of prompts that are compelling to me, so I'm looking for suggestions in between Tumblr searching.


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